


All I want for Christmas

by nottodaydeath



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottodaydeath/pseuds/nottodaydeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so this is my first fic so I’m pretty nervous. The story is inspired by the film Elf, but the plot is quite different! Derek is a single dad who is trying to make a little extra Christmas money by working as an elf (in a full outfit including bells and tights that leave verrryy little to the imagination!) at his family’s seasonal ‘Christmas Wonderland’ restaurant. Stiles is a child therapist and secret CHRISTMAS ENTHUSIAST who keeps coming back time and again for ‘research purposes’. <br/>What can I say…’tis the season. <br/>(Just to clarify – Stiles and Scott are about 24 in my head, Derek is about 29!)<br/>Scott is a paediatric nurse, and whilst he has been in love with Alison ever since he met her in college, he’s never made a move. In addition, Derek’s kids Erica and Isaac are by Kate, who moved to Europe and left Derek (only with him for fat dolla, bitch that she is).</p>
<p>Almost all of the characters will feature in one way or another. I've also put Peter/Stiles in relationships, but it is only really eluded to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 4 weeks, 2 days, until Christmas Day

Derek just stares disbelievingly, refusing to admit that this is his life.  
‘You cannot be serious.’  
Laura gives him her best ‘older sister’ glare. Derek looks, revolted, at the – the thing – she is holding out.   
‘It’s NOVEMBER for God’s sake!’   
Laura purses her lips.   
‘Yes, and not only am I your older sister, but I am your employer, Derek, and I’m telling you to put it on. You know Mom wants us to go all out this Christmas! I’ll be wearing one too, if that makes you feel better.’  
Derek crossed his arms and gave her his scariest, grumpiest facial expression. ‘There is no way in hell I am putting that on.’ He walks towards her, nostrils flaring, scowling. ‘I – would – rather – die.’ 

~

It’s officially the 3rd week of November. To most normal people, this fact might not have very much importance. To Stiles Stilinski however, it is the second most exciting week of the year, because it is, officially (finally) okay to start celebrating Christmas.  
‘I still don’t get why the 3rd week of November is the date?’ Scott asks him in the Jeep, looking with resignation at the reindeer jumper he knew Stiles would be wearing.   
‘Dude, we’ve been friends for over 10 years, I still don’t get how you don’t get this!’ Stiles says, flicking past Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas to the more laid back seasonal offering from Wham on his car’s stereo. ‘October is definitely out, because Halloween, blah blah. Then everyone starts complaining when Christmas décor goes up at the start of November, which ok, is fair, if you want to be a Scrooge about it. BUT the third week of November, once Thanksgiving is over, what’s left? Sweet, fat nothing – that’s what!’ He grinned happily at Scott, bopping his head along to this year’s Christmas Mix CD (he’s made one every year since he was 13. Not that he’d admit that).  
Scott smiled ruefully, resigned to the fact that trying to stop his best friend from losing his sweet young mind around 23rd November was an impossibility.   
‘Where are we going for dinner anyway, you loony?’  
‘Oh, it’s a surprise.’  
Scott became instantly suspicious. ‘A surprise?’  
‘Mhhhmmm!’   
‘A good surprise?’   
‘You gaaavvee it awaayyy – what are you talking about?’ Stiles twinkled mischievously at Scott. ‘My surprises are always good!’   
Well, he was half right.  
It was a good surprise because Stiles had invited their college friend Alison, something he had conveniently ‘forgotten’ to tell Scott. Stiles had been using his Christmas Wish on Alison and Scott getting together for the past 6 years – he would be damned if this year wasn’t the year. He also decided not telling Scott gave him less time to freak out about it, considerate friend that he was.   
Scott’s face lit up when he saw Alison waiting for them in front of the restaurant.   
‘Hey,’ he said breathlessly.   
‘Hey,’ she beamed back.   
‘Heeeyyyy!’ Stiles grinned, enveloping her in a bear hug. ‘Merry Christmas!’   
‘Oh, Stiles,’ Alison laughed. ‘I forgot about you and your Christmas obsession! Your choice of venue should have been enough of a reminder.’   
Scott looked at where they were, at last, horror struck.  
‘I know, right! Pretty sure this is the best thing to happen in Beacon Hills in – well – ever!’ Stiles gushed as he ushered them into the restaurant that had been seasonally renamed ‘Hale’s Christmas Wonderland’.   
When the extremely pretty dark haired waitress – who was, incidentally dressed as Mrs Claus – had left them at their table and Scott and Alison had begun to talk amongst themselves, Stiles finally got a good look around. Only a fellow Christmas enthusiast good have revamped the restaurant with this attention to detail. A 10 foot Christmas tree sparkled by an open fire, with presents gleaming with promise shining underneath. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling, whilst holy and mistletoe garnished every available surface. At their snug table booth, a tiny, adorable Christmas tree was the centrepiece, complete with salt and pepper shakers disguised as miniscule presents.   
Stiles is so excited he may, actually, have a boner.   
When the waiter appears, that possibility becomes a certainty.   
He is appears to be made of pure muscle just – wow. Stiles can see his pecks through his shirt. And it MAY be his imagination, but he’s pretty sure he can see his abs as well. His hair is dark, rough stubble covering his chin, his eyes are sharply green. It is a testimony to this guy’s hotness that it takes Stiles a good 20 seconds to even realise he is wearing a green and yellow elf outfit, complete with – Stiles swallows, mouth suddenly dry – yellow tights. This is a family restaurant and he can see all of his –   
Extremely hot waiter suddenly coughs, and Stiles’ face turns vividly red, as he realises his staring.   
‘Um…sorry, what?’   
The waiter is also, he now realises, wearing an expression that would put grumpy cat to shame.  
‘Drink?’ Hot Waiter grunts.  
‘Ummm…yes.’ Stiles manages. That made sense, right?  
The waiter is giving him ‘that expression’. He receives it quite a lot. It usually means the one wearing it is wondering if he is in any way ‘special’.   
Hot Waiter looks like he’s gritting his teeth. ‘What – would – you like to drink?’  
Stiles would very much like to sink through the seats right about now.  
‘Um…Coke?’   
Hot Waiter nods tersely before leaving. Stiles watches him walk away , noting that the way he walks – as if he is going to fight someone or cut down some trees or something manly like that – is at complete odds with his ridiculously sexy outfit.   
He turns to find Alison and Scott looking at him, amusement barely concealed.   
‘On a scale from 1 to 10 – 1 being vaguely and 10 being coming into work naked – how embarrassed should I feel right now?’  
They both burst out laughing.   
‘Um…four?’ Scott offers, as Stiles bangs his head on the table.   
‘Aw, Stiles don’t beat yourself up! In all fairness, he was pretty sexy,’ Alison said. ‘I never thought an elf costume could look so good!’   
Stiles groans and Scott laughs nervously, secretly wondering whether Alison would think he looked sexy in an elf costume.   
The rest of the meal passes without Stiles embarrassing himself too much more. Hell, no more than usual. He cracks jokes at awkward moments – a bet with himself to see if he can get the waiter to laugh, a bet which he unfortunately loses. He sucks on his straw perhaps a bit too enthusiastically than is strictly necessary. After desert he even licks his fingers. Nothing, nada. The waiter doesn’t even spare a glance in his direction as he wanders around serving customers, never mind smile.   
The only thing Stiles learns from the evening is the waiter’s name, for which he offers a sincere thanks to the genius who invented name badges.  
Derek. Derek Hale, Scott points out when he connects the dots with the older student they had vaguely heard about in school. The Hales are a pretty well off family around Beacon Hills, and the opening of the family restaurant pretty much solidified their names as ones everyone knows.   
‘Derek Hale…’ the name bounces around his head as he drives home – having made an excuse for Alison to drop Scott off – until he can’t hear the dulcet tones of The Pogues over it. He looks the name up on facebook, and is greeted with only an out of focus profile picture and extreme privacy settings. He gets into bed, and whispers the name secretly to himself as he falls asleep. It’s a nice shape for his lips to wrap themselves around. ‘Derek Hale…’  
Oh no, Stiles thinks to himself as his eyes close. Not another unfulfilled Christmas Wish…

~

When Derek gets home it is well after midnight. He hangs up his coat and finally changes out of his ridiculous uniform. If he had known that by Laura would get to wear a much more decent Santa costume whilst he was stuck with yellow tights, he would have kicked up a bigger fuss. I guess that’s just what you get when your big sister is also your manager.   
Yawning, he opens the fridge to grab himself a glass of milk. He hated working so late, but his Mom said she didn’t mind sleeping over with the kids every now and again. Plus, the tips were great. That guy in the Reindeer jumper with the extremely loud laugh had left him about double the usual – an unexpected surprise. He wouldn’t have thought a kid like that would have cash to splash. Go figure.   
‘Daddy?’ a little voice calls from behind him.  
He turns round to see Erica standing in the doorway, yawning.  
‘Hey, baby,’ he leans down to pick up the four-year-old. ‘What are you doing up, huh?’  
She nuzzles into his shoulder. ‘I woke up and you weren’t there.’  
Derek feels his heart twist as he carries her up the stairs. ‘I was just at work, princess. You know I have to work sometimes…’   
She just nods into his shoulder. He puts her in her bed – too big for her, but Derek figured if he got a big one she would grow into it. Derek tucked her 101 Dalmatian bed covers up around her and kissed her on her blonde head. ‘Good night, sweetheart.’  
‘Night. Daddy?’  
‘Yes, sweetheart?’ He turned round in the doorway to see her little eyes peeping out from the covers.  
‘Will you tell me a story?’  
Derek felt the unbearable guilt creep up on him. ‘You know I’m no good at stories, baby. Not like your mom was.’  
Erica just nods sleepily before closing her eyes. ‘I know, Daddy…’  
As Derek slips into bed, he tries not to think about all the little ways he fails at being a Dad. About the hole left by Kate that he cannot seem to fill, no matter how hard he tries. And, as he drifts off to sleep, he thinks about just how much he hates Christmas.


	2. 3 weeks, 6 days, until Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's a little bit of Derek's POV. As you can see, Stiles and Derek have very different opinions on Christmas.

He didn’t always hate Christmas. I mean even when he was a kid, Derek was most definitely not the cheeriest of children, but he loved Christmas just like everyone else. And as an adult he would describe himself as at least ‘noncommittal’ in his feelings towards Christmas, enjoying it the same vague way all adults did.   
But this Christmas…he would happily set fire to every tinsel covered piece of Christmas crap in sight - all of it. Especially the rain.   
‘Ah, Derek, not listening to Adele again are we?’ Peter smirks at Derek from across the table where they eat on early mornings in the Hale family restaurant. ‘I know you have a broken heart, sweet nephew, but you do have other albums on that ipod, don’t you?’  
It’s too early in the morning and Derek is too caffeine deprived to come up with a witty response. ‘Bite me,’ he growls into his cereal and carries on with his breakfast, shoving both headphones back in.   
Peter chuckles. Derek takes pleasure in the fact that whilst his life is fairly pathetic – 29 year old single dad waitressing in his parent’s restaurant – at least his Uncle Peter’s is a little more laughable. Sleazy 40 year old waiter, flirting for tips in his brother’s restaurant.   
It’s the little things in life.   
‘Alright team!’ Laura calls, the bells on her outfit jingling merrily as she sashays into the kitchen. ‘Let’s get up and at ‘em!’   
She pulls the ipod headphones from his ears, and Derek resents his sister’s obnoxious cheerfulness in the mornings. Not that he’s not a morning person in particular; he’s not a night person either. He just hates everything at all times these days.   
He gets up and puts his badge on, resigned to another day of torture.   
Laura pinches his cheek as they head out on the restaurant floor. ‘Where’s the happiest Christmas elf in the whole wide world?’ she coos. He bites at her hand moodily.   
‘Oh yeah,’ she laughs. ‘You ate him for breakfast. Anyway, get your ass over there! I can see the Sheriff’s car pulling up. Go get him, sunshine!’  
She winks over her shoulder as she jingles away to greet some customers. Derek catches Boyd’s eye as he heads to the kitchen to get his first order of the day. Sometimes he feels Boyd is the only other sane person in this establishment, as he is the only other one who seems sincerely bothered at the fact that they are waiters in elf costumes. In November.  
Jesus Christ.   
‘Table for one?’ he asks the Sheriff without preamble as he comes through the door. He likes the Sheriff, and he’s pretty used to him stopping by early morning with one or two of his deputies. He doesn’t bother him, leaves a good tip and doesn’t make awkward small talk.   
The Sheriff takes a brief second to take in Derek’s new attire before saying, ‘two please. Isn’t it November?’   
Derek escorts the Sheriff to his usual table and goes off to get him his two large coffees and two breakfast menus.   
When he comes back he is greeted with a truly terrifying sight.   
‘I told you this place looked awesome!’   
It’s the hyperactive guy in the reindeer jumper. Derek groans internally. It is way too early for this shit.  
‘I mean look at the salt shakers! Aren’t they clever?’  
‘Amazing…’ the Sheriff nods. He looks about as tired as Derek feels, but his face instantly brightens when he sees Derek. ‘Ah Derek! Coffee. Yes, good, thank you.’  
The guy – his son, Derek guesses – gives him a bright smile as he puts out the coffee. ‘Thank you,’ he says cheerily, as his Dad reaches for the sugar.   
Seriously – just how does this guy even function at this time?   
He leaves them with their menus, bumping into Peter on his way to the kitchen. ‘Who’s the cute kid in with the Sheriff?’ he asks him conspiratorially over the salt shakers.   
Derek just looks at his Uncle for a moment, not sure he is hearing right.   
‘Peter – I’m not even sure he is legal!’   
‘Oh, you sound so scandalised,’ Peter says, obviously lapping it up. ‘I’m not gonna do anything. Just, you know, keeping my options open. You have to admit, he is a cute piece of jailbait. Or do you think the Sheriff’s already called dibs?’  
Derek looks round involuntarily. He’s alright, he supposes. I mean he has nice hair. And good teeth. And biteable lips – wait what?  
Derek is saved from answering by Laura choosing that moment to interrupt. ‘For your information,’ she whispers, ‘that “cute piece of jailbait’s” name is Stiles Stilinski, the Sheriff’s son. He’s a child psychologist and kind of a big deal. He’s also 24.’ She glares at Peter. ‘Now, if we could all get back to work and stop discussing having sex with the customers over the salt shakers that would be just fine and dandy.’   
She stands and smacks her notepad over her Uncle’s head. ‘Got it?’   
Watching her jingle away as Peter slinks back to work, Derek realises that were they not blood related, he would find her terrifying.  
~  
The inevitable conversation Derek has been dreading happens when he is clearing away the Sheriff and Stile’s plates.   
‘So, Derek,’ the Sheriff asks him. ‘What do you think of the redecoration of the place?’  
Derek looks between the Sheriff and Stiles as he considers his answer. It is obvious they have been talking about this, and it seems as though his opinion will settle a dispute on the matter. They watch him expectantly.  
‘Festive,’ he grunts, non-committal.   
The Sheriff seems amused. ‘Well, that’s one word for it,’ he says, glancing round, his eyes resting on the toy train that his Mom set up last night to drive around the outskirts of the room.  
‘It’s new,’ Derek offers.   
Stiles chooses this moment to break in. ‘Well I think it’s really, really great!’   
Derek just looks at him, and this seems enough encouragement for him to keep talking. ‘I mean it’s only Christmas once a year, right? So might as well go all out. It’s like, if you love someone you tell them every chance you get cause you don’t know when it might be your last chance? Well, people love Christmas!’   
He looks eagerly between Derek and the Sheriff.   
‘Get what I mean?’ he asks.  
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ the Sheriff huffs. ‘Bill please, Derek?’  
Derek nods and goes away. What Stiles said kind of makes sense….well, not what he actually said but what he was probably trying to say.  
But it doesn’t make his urge to puke every time he sees a reindeer or an elf any less.   
~   
Stiles and the Sheriff leave behind a generous tip when they leave. Derek doesn’t notice the lingering smile Stiles gives him, and the sigh that follows as Stiles realised that he could literally jump up and down naked in front of this weirdly attractive elf and he still wouldn’t notice him.   
‘Why are the good ones always straight?’ he mumbles in the car.  
‘What’s that?’ his dad asks, fastening his seatbelt.   
‘I said BREAKFAST WAS GREAT, DAD. God, it’s called listening. Try it once in a while.’  
~  
It isn’t until Derek is at the end of the shift that Peter finds it.   
‘Well, look what we have here,’ he grins, his eyes gleaming predatorily. Pinched in between his thumb and forefinger is a wallet, decorated with a comic strip pattern.   
Derek glares at him. ‘You know I’m not gonna let you steal that, right?’  
Peter snorts. ‘As if I would do such a thing! I am actually referring to possibilities attached to the owner of this wallet. Santa sent my Christmas present early and I was a very good boy.’   
Derek stiffens; already knowing who the wallet belongs to before he asks. ‘Let me see.’  
Peter holds the wallet out, open so Derek can see the driver’s licence. Derek deftly swipes it.  
‘Hey!’ Peter pouts. ‘Give it back! I’m going to return it!’  
‘No, you’re not,’ Derek says as he pulls on his coat to leave. ‘He’s my customer, so it’s my problem. It wouldn’t be fair to give you the extra work.’  
He’s out the back door before Peter can stop him. ‘You can thank me later.’  
‘Spoilsport!’ he hears Peter call after him.   
~  
Driving in his car, he looks at the wallet in the passenger seat – still open, so the driver’s license is looking at him, in an almost accusatory way.   
‘What are you looking at?’ he says aloud.   
The wallet keeps looking at him.  
‘I only took you to spite Peter.’  
He glances at it.  
‘Stop staring at me.’  
He closes the wallet over and listens to Christmas music on the radio, up full blast, all the way to the gym. It is literally the only thing that will distract him from the stupid wallet he has to stupidly return. Stupid.   
~  
Derek used to go to the gym a lot more than he does now. When he first got together with Kate, he always felt like he had to work to keep up with her – mentally, physically, in every way. Working out at least gave him some sense of physical control; he may have not ever been good enough for her in every other way, but at least he could look good enough. He almost got obsessive towards the end of their marriage.   
What with two kids to look after, it’s not like he has a butt load of spare time. When he does get a chance, on days like today when he has a short shift, it’s somewhat of a luxury.  
You can tell that he’s gotten lax, he realises as he washes in the shower after his workout. He’s got some definite love handles going on.   
Kate wouldn’t have liked them, but Derek decides he likes them just fine.   
Content, Derek begins to hum idly in the shower – he’s so relaxed for once, that he doesn’t notice when he is singing, his voice echoing all over the quiet changing room.  
‘I really can’t stay…’  
‘But baby it’s cold outside…’  
‘I’ve got to go away…’  
‘But baby it’s cold outside…’  
He remembers when he sang this with Kate so clearly, it’s almost as if she was in the shower with him, singing along…  
‘I wish I knew how to break the spell…’  
‘I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell…’  
She always tried to say no no no sir, but he would creep up in the shower and pour cold water on her…then they would hold each other and he’d sing in her ear…  
‘at least I’m gonna say that I tried…’  
‘What’s the sense in hurting my pride…’  
But she didn’t stay…  
‘I really can’t stay…’  
‘ah, but it’s cold outsiddddde!’   
Derek drops his soap in shock when he realises that he is not hearing the echoes of past relationships in his head, but that someone else is singing with him. He remains as still as possible, as if that will allow the ground to open up and swallow him whole, rather than confront this weird situation. There is no locker room etiquette that has prepared him for this situation – I mean, guys checking him out, whilst a little awkward, is natural and normal. What kind of freak would have a duet with him whilst he was in the shower?   
He then flushes red when he realises this means that another human being has heard him sing, which is probably at least Top 5 in a list of his worst nightmares.   
He hears the other shower faucet turning off, and someone’s feet padding down the concrete to the locker areas. He tenses in his cubicle as they walk past, their feet appearing underneath his cubicle door.  
Just pretend that it didn’t happen he tells himself, as he breathes deeply in and out.   
The guy pauses as he reaches the door to lead him out of the showers and into the locker rooms.   
‘That was fun. You’re pretty good!’ a suspiciously familiar voice calls out. ‘Merry Christmas!’  
The door swings shut behind him, and Derek is left frozen to the spot in the shower.   
This cannot be his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mos def going to be a slow burn! Right now I don't want to rush into anything because Derek is both unbelievably stubborn and very damaged by his past marriage. Hopefully you will stick with my story!   
> Comments and criticism always welcome.  
> Also, I am currently looking for a beta if anyone is free?  
> Also, do you think I should space out my sentences more?? I can't decide. They look a little squished.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments/criticism always welcome :)


End file.
